


Working It Out

by OccasionallyCreative



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, One Shot, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 07:36:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionallyCreative/pseuds/OccasionallyCreative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie/Darcy future fic. Lizzie and Darcy pick up their daughter from school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working It Out

Imogen Bennet-Darcy never quite got her parents sometimes—she especially didn’t understand how some words could either make them fall to pieces in laughter or cause her father to smile a little smile and glance at her mother, who would just laugh and either playfully poke or pinch him in the sides. Then there would be another glance between the two of them, a glance which told Imogen that her parents were thinking about things that she didn’t yet want to know about. She had long ago termed it their ‘secret glance’. She didn’t know why they did it, but when they did, she knew it was best to look away and make very little mention of it. (Okay, maybe she mentioned once… or twice… but they'd been teasing her back!)

They used the ‘secret glance’ at the oddest times as well. One time that stuck out in her mind was when she came bounding out of school, aged 4. That day, both of her parents had managed to meet her at the gate. Usually it was just one of them, or if they were really busy, her grandparents would pick her up and take her to their home for hot chocolate. Imogen liked her grandparents an awful lot; especially her grandmother, who always managed to make her laugh by putting on a large blue sun hat, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders and acting out scenes from her mother’s videos from years ago (videos which Imogen was yet to see—if her father had his way, she would only be seeing them when she turned 18). Her grandfather was more of a quiet man, and seemed to be quite attached to his plants. Being a curious child, Imogen had rather bluntly asked him why he liked them so much. His only reply was to calmly look at her over his spectacles and tell her that the passions people have took many different forms.

Although she took a while to truly understand what he meant, she knew it was a signal to not mention it again. Of course, despite his quiet nature, her grandfather was just as lovely as her grandmother—the way he teased his wife and daughters was a source of endless entertainment for Imogen and as she grew, it became clear that she had inherited the wit of her grandfather, the playfulness of her mother and the decisiveness of her father. She also inherited her mother's red hair and her father's eyes, but that's another tale.

Still, it was a grey day when she came bounding up to both of her parents. Immediately, her father scooped her into her arms as he hugged her tightly and lightly kissed the very tip of her nose—a common habit for him, ever since she had been born. Her mother smiled, and stroked at her mass of curly hair, standing up on tiptoe to kiss Imogen on the cheek. In spite of their busy schedules and heavy workload, Imogen’s parents always managed to be as loving as two people could be to one child.

“Did you have a good day?” her father asked lightly as he put her back down on the ground, his hand still clutching her tiny, cold one. Imogen nodded eagerly and her mother smiled widely, taking hold of Imogen’s other hand.

“I learnt a new word!” she blurted, lifting herself off the ground slightly. Her parents instinctively began to gently swing her back and forth, still looking at her.

“Well, don’t leave us in suspense," her mother said. "What was the word?”

“Ih… loo… Hm. It’s a big word…” she murmured as she tried to remember the way her teacher had taught it. Her mother and father waited patiently, still gently swinging her backwards and forwards. For a long while, nothing was said as Imogen attempted to get her tongue around the word. When she did eventually get it, she came to a rapid halt and beamed up at her parents.

“Ih… loo…muh-ney-ting. Yeah, that’s it! Illuminating!” she cried loudly. Proud of herself, she stomped her feet in a little dance of celebration. Neither of her parents said anything for a few moments, nor did they comment on her little dance. Curious, Imogen looked up. Her father had his little smile on his face, and her mother was grinning widely. Suddenly, she let out a little laugh and she turned back to Imogen and crouched in front of her.

“Clever girl. I think… for learning such a big word, you need something special as a reward. Don’t you?”

Imogen’s eyes quickly lit up.

“Froyo?”

“Your favourite,” her mother said with a little nod and just as Imogen let out a cry of joy, she picked her up and rested her on her hip, one hand wrapped tightly around Imogen’s waist to protect her from falling. With her other hand, she clasped her husband’s hand and smiled at him.

Imogen watched as her parents looked at one another. They were doing it again—the ‘secret glance’. Only this time, there was something else there too. They were both smiling a little, as if recalling a cherished memory.

She was yet to learn of the significance behind the word, but on the day that she obtained her first laptop at age 16, she finally managed to see what all the fuss was about.

It certainly was, well, rather illuminating.

**Author's Note:**

> My personal headcanon is that Mrs. Bennet (after several cups of tea and a lot of explaining from Lizzie) took her daughter's impressions with good humour. Another part of my headcanon is that Lizzie and Darcy are ridiculously adorable in everything they do.


End file.
